He was a man that lived much above the World, the great things thereof were very little in his eyes, though his habitation was on Earth, his conversation was in Heaven. Indeed he had but a small estate, especially considering his great charge, but a poor man may be Earthly and covetous as one that is rich, for covetousness doth not lie in the Chest or Bags, or great Manors, but in the heart. But he was Master of, not a Slave to that little he had. His mind was fitted to his estate, ⟨p. 50⟩and notwithstanding he had many opportunities and advantages for the getting riches if he had sought them, yet he never made use of them for that purpose. He was wholly taken up with his Treasure in Heaven, and was so far from minding Earthly things, that he seldom or never meddled with Earthly things; but left all to his pious and prudent yoke fellow. I have often admired his indifferency of spirit to the things of this life. O how far was he from the number of many in our days who trouble themselves with Ploughing, and Sowing, and Reaping, (unnecessarily) and worldly concerns, all the Week, and on the Lords Day, and set their people off with raw indigested confused discourses, and sometimes little better then non-sense. A little before the insurrection in Kent in the year 1648. one hundred pound was brought into Mr. Wilsons house, (being a Legacy given his eldest Daughter, by a gracious man Mr. John Big, one of the Jurates of Maidstone, and I believe the greatest portion any of his children had) which money in the time of the insurrection was by the Soldiers (when they searched the house for Arms) discovered and taken away (though quickly restored again) Mr. Wilson being then at London. When the Country was quiet, and Mr. Wilson returned again to his dwelling, I asked him whether he ⟨p. 51⟩was not much troubled, when he heard his money was gone, he answered me (and I do believe him,) I was no more troubled when I heard the money was carried out of my house, then I was when I heard it was brought into my house. I also then enquired of him what frame of spirit he was in, when he went from Maidstone, for the Town & Country being in Arms, many of the mean profane wretches reproached him, when he was going out of the Town, they took his Horse by the Bridle, and twice or thrice brought him back) crying out Wilson, Wilson, Where is your God now? Where is your God now?
He was a man that lived much above the World, the great things therof were very little in his eyes, though his habitation was on Earth, his conversation was in Heaven. Indeed he had but a small estate, especially considering his great charge, but a poor man may be Earthly and covetous as one that is rich, for covetousness doth not lie in the Chest or Bags, or great Mannours, but in the heart. But he was Master of, not a Slave to that little he had. His mind was fitted to his estate, ⟨p. 50⟩and notwithstanding he had many opportunities and advantages for the getting riches if he had sought them, yet he never made use of them for that purpose. He was wholly taken up with his Treasure in Heaven, and was so far from minding Earthly things, that he seldom or never meddled with Earthly things; but left all to his pious and prudent yoke fellow. I have often admired his indifferency of spirit to the things of this life. O how far was he from the number of many in our days who trouble themselves with Ploughing, and Sowing, and Reaping, (unnecessarily) and worldly concerns, all the Week, and on the Lords Day, and set their people off with raw indigested confused discourses, and sometimes little better then non-sense. A little before the insurrection in Kent in the year 1648. one hundred pound was brought into Mr. Wilsons house, (being a Legacy given his eldest Daughter, by a gracious man Mr. Iohn Bigge, one of the Jurates of Maidstone, and I believe the greatest portion any of his children had) which money in the time of the insurrection was by the Souldiers (when they searched the house for Armes) discovered and taken away (though quickly restored again) Mr. Wilson being then at London. When the Countrey was quiet, and Mr. Wilson returned again to his dwelling, I asked him whether he ⟨p. 51⟩was not much troubled, when he heard his money was gone, he answered me (and I do believe him,) I was no more troubled when I heard the money was carried out of my house, then I was when I heard it was brought into my house. I also then enquired of him what frame of spirit he was in, when he went from Maidstone, for the Town & Country being in Arms, many of the mean prophane wretches reproached him, when he was going out of the Town, they took his Horse by the Briddle, and twice or thrice brought him back) crying out Wilson, Wilson, Where is your God now? Where is your God now?
